


Álgos

by judgehangman



Category: Makai Ouji: Devils and Realist
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Dissociation, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, M/M, Suicidal Dantalion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 19:16:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6484222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/judgehangman/pseuds/judgehangman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I wish walking away from you was easier."</p><p>Post ch 75.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Álgos

**Author's Note:**

> (Trigger warnings: suicidal intent, depression and dissociation)

**Álgos (n):** From Greek, grief, sorrow, distress; that which causes pain.

* * *

 

Somewhere, hundreds of thousands of kilometres from there, the world moved towards its destruction. As Hell marched forwards and Heaven held its breath in apprehension, the gravelly trumpets of Judgement Day sounded across the ethereal plane.

But in the cold silence of William’s bedroom, the night seemed still. He laid on the floor, eyes closed, his fingers tapping against his thigh to the rhythm of an imaginary tune. The weak, wavering flame in the fireplace wasn’t enough to make the room nor the silence between them any warmer—as it died out, the only thing it was able to do was cast strange shadows on the wall, like ghosts seeking solace in the transient light.

Dantalion had told him about the war, of course. Had explained Lucifer’s cruel announcement, how he’d revoked Solomon’s power of naming a substitute king and now they were forced into a war they knew would have no winners. William couldn’t help but feel guilty, knowing all of that could’ve been avoided if he had made a choice sooner.

But he never wanted to make decisions about the fate of this world, or make his pillars fight amongst themselves. He didn’t want to make a choice and lose everything again, or fall into the same tired life he’d led before with the same old cosmic responsibilities he’d never asked for. Even when he made a deal with Lucifer, hoping the demon could break him out of that violent cycle—

No. He shut his eyes tighter, the sharp pain behind them making him feel nauseated. No, he wasn’t the one who did that. Solomon was. Solomon’s memories might’ve been vivid and sharp inside his head, but William still refused to let the edges between them blur like that. Before, it had been a moment of weakness, the overwhelming feelings the both of them had regarding Dantalion’s return had made it a lot harder to keep Solomon’s personality from coming through, but William was set on not letting it happen again.

Pain shot through his body, like his soul was tearing itself apart, and he bit his lip to refrain from making a sound. It lasted only for a moment, but it was enough to remind him of the consequences of shutting Solomon out. His time was running out. He stopped tapping.

“Hey, Dantalion.”

He opened his eyes to face the demon, looking for him in the darkness. Dantalion was standing a few steps from the fireplace, face lit by only by its faint golden light, his eyes closed and his brows furrowed in either worry or concentration. William wasn’t sure which.

“What is it, William?”

William hesitated. He could almost feel the roaring of Hell’s army underneath his feet, the presence of the Four Horsemen almost lingering in the earth. They must have been marching towards the golden gates of paradise, judging by the morbid fanfare ringing through the fabric between worlds. William wasn’t quite sure how he knew that, nor how _Solomon_ knew that either, but was certain that Dantalion could hear the music as well.

“Do you remember that one night?”

Dantalion opened his eyes and William felt himself blush at the intensity of his gaze. “What night?”

“Back at Stratford. Before… before any of this happened.” He fidgeted with his ring. “When you treated me to cake and red wine.”

“And you were completely drunk by the end of the night and had a hangover the next day?” Dantalion laughed fondly at the memory. “Yeah, I remember that!”

“I wasn’t drunk!”

He gave William a smile that conveyed more than he had the courage to admit, and floated to his side. William sat up as he sat down, stretching his arms above his head, and yawned. It’d been a couple of weeks since he last had a good night of sleep, but he didn’t blame Dantalion. He knew Dantalion too had too many things going on in his head.

“What about that night?” Dantalion asked, giving William a nudge.

“I don’t know.” William sighed and leaned his head on Dantalion’s shoulder. “It was good. I keep thinking about how we never got the chance to do something like that again. And about how much I wanted to, but never knew how to ask you.”

“You? Unsure of how to demand something from me? I find that hard to believe!”

Dantalion gave him a teasing smile, and William couldn’t help but smile too. He turned to Dantalion with a soft, knowing look on his face.

“I wasn’t going to _demand_. But I think you, of all people, might know how difficult it is to do something like that.”

The demon frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“Well…” William looked away and then back at him with an amused smile. “You never asked me either. Not even when you were sulking in the shadows, complaining about Sean spending time with Sytry and I.”

Dantalion blushed, hiding his face into his hands. “Isaac told you?”

“Yeah. Personally, I thought you were an idiot. Did you honestly believe I would deny you that, if you just asked?”

“It’s not like you haven’t before. And I wasn’t sure if you truly wished to spend time with me.”

He looked down, scraping his nails on the wooden floor. William frowned.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You know why.”

The fire flickered out, leaving them in the dark, with only the moonlight to illuminate the room. Somehow, Dantalion didn’t think it would be appropriate to relight it. He wondered if it went out because of the bitter wind coming from the open balcony door. Maybe they should’ve closed it.

“No, I don’t, actually.” William pulled away, narrowing his eyes. “I cannot, for the life of me, figure out why you ever thought I didn’t want to spend time with you. Didn’t I tell you that the future was up to you?”

“You didn’t summon me in the battle against Isaac. And you said I was useless. ”

William sighed and started tapping his fingers once again, this time against his knee. Dantalion didn’t point out it was the same melody he used to play to Solomon in the tower, but William knew nonetheless.

“That was before. And you know I didn’t mean it.” He looked at Dantalion. “Right?”

Dantalion frowned, but didn’t say anything else. He pulled his legs towards his chest, resting his chin on his knees, and took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

“Can I ask you something?”

There was a tired, old sadness to Dantalion’s words, like he’d been carrying them for millennia. His breath hitched. There was a pounding in his head that made luminous spots flicker in his vision and his heart speed up, an overwhelming, white-hot pain searing through his body in a shockwave. He tried to once again take a deep breath, control his feelings before he lost hold on them.

“What is it?”

“I know you said you’ve always known it, that you didn’t really remember Solomon’s life. All of his other incarnations, they somehow ended up remembering it too, sooner or later. With or without the ring, Solomon would always end up ‘breaking’ them.” He pressed his thumb and index finger to his eyes, head hurting. "I always did what I had to do, whether it was too late for them or not. Whenever I managed to find them, I would kill them. When you summoned me that day, if the election wasn’t an urgent matter, I would’ve killed you too.”

“What did you want to ask?” William’s voice was quiet.

“That day in Hell… when you put on Solomon’s ring.” Dantalion’s breath hitched. “I made my choice. I chose you, over anything else in this world. Over Solomon too, even though part of me still hoped you were the same person.”

“Dantalion, what was your question?” He urged, even though he was scared of what Dantalion was going to say.

“William—“

But the words fled him, hiding somewhere in the red of his eyes, and, trembling, he jumped to his feet. Before William could say anything, he ran towards the balcony, fire on his closed fists. Good things never happened when his emotions got out of control. They were a terrifying force of nature, fuel to the destruction he hated but somehow never seemed to escape. William jumped up as well and ran after him with his heart racing. He gripped the balcony railing, hipbones pressing against the cold metal as he propped himself forwards.

“Dantalion!”

Dantalion hovered a few meters from William, eyes closed and face turned towards the stars. That was as far as he dared go, any farther and he didn’t think he’d stop running. William called his name again.

“William, I—“ But the things he wanted to say escaped him once again and he let a breathy, self-deprecating laugh. “I am a fucking mess.”

“Dantalion, please, you’re scaring me!” William said. ”What was your question?”

He shook his head.

“It’s a request.”

“Tell me!” He didn’t demand as much as he begged. “I told you before— tell me your wish and I will grant it.”

Dantalion opened his eyes in an attempt to make sense of things, as if he could find the words that kept escaping him into the starlit sky. He found no answer in the stars, but shapes and colours that melted into each other. 

“William, once I go, promise me you’ll try to forget me.” Dantalion said, only loud enough or William to hear, face turned towards the stars, the cold wind caressing his hair. Part of him tried to rationalize that sadness, define it and sort it into neat little boxes like Solomon had once done and William still did, dissect every reason he had to feel that way. But his thoughts fogged, and he didn’t know what he was feeling anymore.

“W-what?”

“I wish to stay with you. There is nothing in this world I could want more than that.” He looked at William. “But I can’t.”

“Dantalion…”

“And I wish— I wish I had never met you.”

All the air left William at once and tears welled up in his eyes faster than he could process his feelings. It was a different kind of sadness than before: a cold, piercing pain that burned its way across his ribcage like a spear, constricting his lungs as it weighed down on his chest. He took a sharp breath, shutting his eyes tight for a brief moment as if he could somehow stop the tears from falling that way.

“W-why are you saying this?”

“Because it hurts so much, William. Leaving and knowing I could’ve been happy if things were different. I wish I had never known what this kind of happiness felt like. I wish… I wish walking away from you was easier.”

His voice broke and William watched, helpless, as he tried to put himself back together. Dantalion had cried before, gentle tears sliding down his cheeks, falling on William’s face. But now he shook, arms around his body, gasping for air like he couldn’t breathe. He worried Dantalion wouldn’t be able to keep himself in the air anymore and would fall down and injure himself. With his brows furrowed in concentration, William focused on lifting his body up from the ground, and hovered towards Dantalion.

“Please don’t cry.” He touched Dantalion’s cheek, caught his tears with his thumbs, but Dantalion kept crying nonetheless. “Just tell me how to make it better.”

Dantalion shook his head. “I am so _sad_ , William. Not just now, a-all the time. As happy as being with you makes me, I still feel like the world is crashing down around me and I am the epicentre of its destruction.”

Choked sobs escaped through his lips as he attempted to regain his composure. William said something, but the sound was muffled, almost as if coming from behind thick glass.

“Every day, William. Every _goddamn_ day, I wish— I wish I was happy enough to stop wanting to kill myself.”

“Don’t say that.”

Dantalion floated away from him and William followed, anxious.

“But it’s the truth!” He shouted. “I don’t know how to feel without destruction. I am breaking— I am _broken_ and I would tear this entire wretched world apart just to feel whole again!”

In silence, William watched as he cried. He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to comfort him after learning that. He had wanted to reach out to Dantalion so Dantalion knew he had an option that didn’t involve killing people again, thinking that maybe if he’d offered an alternative, a way that didn’t involve destruction or forcing Dantalion to be the monster he was made into, then he could stop Dantalion’s suffering. Now he knew that wouldn’t solve anything.

A memory that wasn’t truly his crossed his mind, something from too long ago that he had wanted to forget. He didn’t know if it was his own grief at the realisation or Solomon’s guilt that made the tears finally start falling.

“Dantalion”, he called, and his voice didn’t feel like his own. He cleared his throat. “Dantalion, please.”

His fingers closed around Dantalion’s wrist in a firm grip.

“Dantalion I am _sorry._ ” His voice shook. “For the things I put you through.”

Dantalion let out a wavering breath. “Solomon—“

“No.” William shook his head. “No, I am not _him_. I don’t want to be him.”

“Alright.” Dantalion nodded, tears still streaming down his face, watching as William intertwined their fingers. “William, then.”

“No. Everything is so confusing in my head right now. I don’t know who I wish I was. I don’t think I’m either William or Solomon right now.” He guided Dantalion back towards the balcony. “But I am so, _so_ sorry that I used your pain as a mean to manipulate you. I knew you were suffering and still I—“

His tears ceased, if only from the shock of the sudden change in William’s behaviour. He pulled William into a hug and rested his head on the boy’s shoulder. William always looked so small next to him but right now it was he who felt like a child. His conviction wavered for a moment. Maybe he should stay with William and pretend they could have a normal, _human_ life together. Pretend the world wasn’t ending and William was still only William and Dantalion didn’t want to die. It was tempting, almost desperately so. They floated down.

“Who are you, then?” Dantalion asked against William’s skin, voice brittle, his warm breath tickling the boy’s neck.

“I don’t know. I don’t _know._ B-but whoever I am right now, and whoever I might be after this night is done, I am certain of one thing. ”

“What is it?”

Their feet touched the ground once again.

“I don’t want you to die.”

With a sharp intake of breath, eyes closed, his arms around William’s waist in a tight embrace, he let his tears resume. Somehow, there was a part of him, however minimal, that didn’t want to die either. He pressed a soft kiss to William’s shoulder.

“Who do you think wins when this is all done?” Dantalion murmured against his skin, shaking even though he felt calm. “What happens when William burns out? Do you think I’ll be here, your little servient dog, watch Solomon pretend to be someone he isn’t?”

“Yes,” he said. Nothing in his tone indicated he’d meant it meanly, he was only stating something he knew was a fact. However much he hurt, however much Solomon made him suffer, Dantalion would always be there by his side. Maybe he’d gotten too used to it. Maybe that was why he didn’t want Dantalion to die. No. He held Dantalion tighter. _No._ There was something else too, something he didn’t dare to say out loud because the idea scared him, whoever he was now.

Dantalion gave him a weak laugh and looked up at him. “Is it that obvious?”

“That night, two thousand eight hundred and ninety-nine years ago, you looked at me the way you are looking at me now and kissed me.” His voice was thick, his breathing sharp. “And the next night, two thousand nine hundred years ago, you told me you loved me and killed me with your hands around my neck.”

“I did.”                                                                                       

“And I know why you did it, why you _had_ to do it. And tonight… tonight you look at me the same way you did then, and as hard as I try, I can’t understand why you think you are the one who should die.”

“If I don’t die, if I am not the one to end this cycle of destruction… then Solomon will ask me to kill again.” He took a deep breath. “I have to die because the alternative is killing you. And I would rather die even the most violent, painful death, than live to remember I was responsible for your, _William’s_ death too.”

William took a deep breath and hugged him tighter, burying his face on Dantalion’s chest, arms around the demon’s shoulders. In complete silence he listened to Dantalion’s heartbeat. He moved one hand to Dantalion’s heart, fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt, and Dantalion rested his chin on the top of the boy’s head.

“You didn’t say you had to die. You said you wanted to kill yourself.” William murmured. “Those are completely different things.”

Dantalion exhaled, shakily.

“I’m sorry.”

“Do you really want to die?” He asked, voice muffled.

“Yes.”

William shut his eyes tightly.

“Why?”

He wanted to tell William that Baphomet’s absence echoed in the halls of the manor, that he could see Solomon’s ghost in the stars and the sunrise and the pages of old books, that the voices in his head shouted the word _‘traitor’_ at him until he dug his nails into his arms and begged them to stop.

‘ _Everyone I love is dead’,_ he wanted to say, too. But that wasn’t true. Hell, that wasn’t true, William was _right there_. And even though William was right there, it felt as if Dantalion was losing him. Even if William wasn’t his to lose.

“I don’t know.” He said, instead. “I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?”

“I’ve felt like this for so long. I don’t even know that anymore.” He pulled away and stepped back to face William. “Either way, it doesn’t matter now.”

“Dantalion—“

“It doesn’t matter.” He repeated, more forcefully. “I would love to stay with you, but it wasn’t William Twining who told me to kill him and it wasn’t William Twining who I kissed that night and it isn’t Solomon who I would die for. Right now you are neither of them. Not fully, at least. How long do you think you can keep it up?”

“Kill me, then.”

Dantalion shook his head, letting out a cold, bitter laugh. “Kill you? Why would I do that?”

“Because of the war.”

The demon snorted.

“Do you think _your_ death would solve this? William Twining has a whole life ahead of him, a life he could’ve lived if Solomon wasn’t so—“ he shook his head. “You? You don’t even know who you are right now.”

 “I am _myself_!”

“And who would that be?”

The wind howled, the night otherwise silent, as if the world was holding its breath. In the dark, the moonlight cast strange shadows over Dantalion’s face, the passing clouds creating patterns that pulsated delicately like a dying heartbeat, taking him in and out of the dark. The boy reached up, his hand blocking the light, and touched Dantalion’s face. There was a sharpness in his green eyes, something neither here nor there, but so unbearably _William_ that Dantalion couldn’t help but give him a small smile. The boy smiled at him too—a sad, watery smile that made Dantalion’s heart ache. And for a tender, brief moment, with his brows furrowed in determination and his toes just grazing the ground, William kissed him.

“I am William Twining.” He stared at Dantalion, resolute. “Not Solomon, not whoever it is I end up being when I lose sense of myself. I don’t know who I am going to be in the morning, I don’t know who I am going to be five minutes from now. But I know that, right now, I am William Twining, and I do not want you to die.”

Dantalion blinked, surprised.

“I have a bright future ahead of me. I have plans, and Solomon is not going to take them away. This — this is just a detour. All of that is true.” William gave him a smile. “And you, you stupid meathead, you are a part of those plans. I would love, _love_ , to share the rest of my days with you. Even if it scares me, even if the rest of the whole goddamn world thinks it’s wrong, even if friendship is the only thing we’ll ever be allowed to have, even if you’ve convinced yourself the world is somehow better without you in it. I don’t care. I am _tired_ of all of you pushing me around. I am tired of everyone making decisions for me and trying to deceive me _. I_ make my own future. _I_ decide what I am going to do and who I am going to be. The world is not a better place without you. _I_ am not a better person without you. I don’t care if I’ll have to repeat that for the rest of my life until you believe me, I want you to stay.”

“I love you.” Dantalion said, before he could contain himself. And kept saying, because he couldn’t stop: “I love you, I love you, I love you…”          

“I know.”

And with every _I love you_ , and every kiss that followed those words, William repeated that, again and again and again, until he felt like the world could end just there. And when Dantalion stopped, breathless, William thought he could fight and win against Solomon every day for the rest of his life if Dantalion was his reward.

“Give me your hand.”

Dantalion did and though William’s eyes were hazy, he knew it was still him. Not the halfway mix of William and Solomon he’d been before, not Solomon. _Him._ Cheeks tinted pink, never-ending childish hope in his eyes, and the lively way he skipped into the room — that was all William.

“I won’t promise you I’ll try to forget you when you leave.” He walked across the room, pulling Dantalion along with him. “I don’t want to forget you.”

He sat down on the bed, legs dangling from the edge, still holding Dantalion’s hand. He pulled Dantalion towards him and the demon leaned in to press their foreheads together. William kissed him again.

“Stay with me,” he whispered against Dantalion’s lips.

“I can’t.”

“I’m not telling you to stay forever.” He touched Dantalion’s face, thumbs rubbing soft circles on his jawline. “Stay here tonight, at least. You have no idea how much I missed you.”

 “William…”

“Lie with me, Dantalion.” He said. “You can leave in the morning, the war isn’t going anywhere.”

“Excuse me?”

William cringed at the things he didn’t mean to imply, cursing his brief lapse in thought. Cheeks flushed, wondering if he was as red as Dantalion himself was, he replied:

“You are excused. I didn’t— I didn’t mean anything like _that_. Just… lie down with me for a bit.”

“Right.” Dantalion’s face became a deeper shade of red as William laid back on the bed, pulling him down as well. “Right, I—“

Chuckling at Dantalion’s loss of words, still blushing, William removed Dantalion’s cape and threw it somewhere beside the bed. He hesitated again, one hand on each side of William’s head. William rolled his eyes.

“That thing is a crime against fashion and I don’t want to end up tangled in it. Frankly, get those thoughts out of your head, you pervert.”

Dantalion laughed, despite the heavy feeling in his chest. A soft, ringing laugh that filled William with joy. He laid down on top of William, careful not to put all his weight on the boy, and hid his face on the curve of William’s neck.

“I missed you too.” He whispered and pressed a gentle kiss to William’s shoulder. “So much.”

William hummed, happily, and caressed Dantalion’s hair with one hand. Dantalion rolled off him, and laid on his side, watching William with attentive eyes. Immediately, the cold hit William and he shivered.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s _freezing,”_  he complained.

Dantalion made a quick gesture which caused the balcony door to shut closed and the fireplace to relight itself, but still didn't otherwise move. William stared at him in disbelief.

“Really, Dantalion?”

The demon blushed. “What?”

“I’m cold.” William gave him a pointed look. “Hold me.”

“Oh.”

And so he did.

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, I looked at Pillar 75 and decided it didn't make me suffer enough. So I continued a bit after where it ended and made it worse.
> 
> Feel free to point out any typos, my tired adhd brain is far from infallible!
> 
> Also, thanks to everyone on twitter that demanded excerpts and shouted at me because of how sad the idea was. You're the reason this has a happy ending!


End file.
